


A Demon’s Demons

by LadyOutlier



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, Fluff and Angst, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-09-27 22:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20414995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOutlier/pseuds/LadyOutlier
Summary: In which Hell reunites Crowley with his Falling pains.





	1. Prologue

In the deepest pits of Hell, below the torture cells and the mail room, existed a hallway that had been forgotten for longer than the Earth’s existence. Back when Hell lacked design and it was only a plane of fire and brimstone, this hallway was one of the first structures the Fallen created through their agonizing pain and scorched beings. As their wings burned and their chests collapsed with hollowness from their lack of Grace, the hallway came into existence as a way for them to rid themselves of the pain. They could hardly stand as a threat to Heaven when so horribly crippled from their Fall.

So the hallway became endless and gained many rooms that branched from it—one for each of the Fallen. And in these rooms, each newly born demon ripped themselves apart, tearing their Sins from their being. The Fall became a memory, moving into the past rather than living with them in every second of the present. The pain was gone, and the Fallen could live again.

Their Sins remained in their rooms behind doors with a thousand locks that were boarded up with a hundred planks. Left to the depths of Hell to be forgotten as the place of horror built on top of it for the next six thousand years. However, it was not gone. It merely continued to stir below the floorboards, waiting for someone to return. And after the End of the World was thwarted, someone who had never quite forgotten the hallway did return.

The hallway was dark and dusty but far from silent as Lord Beelzebub, accompanied by their right-hand demon Dagon, walked down it. Even through all the precautions, the doors rattled angrily as the Sins demanded to be freed. There were not a lot of things the Lord of Flies feared. Board meetings with Satan after particularly low months were one. A demon immune to holy water was another. And the Sins of a past better left forgotten were the most feared of all.

Still, one does not rise to Beelzebub’s position without the ability to press on in the face of fear, and so they walked on, footsteps echoing down the hallway barely audible above the smashing and banging of an army of Fallen’s Sins. The way forward and the way back were both consumed by darkness as the light flickered ominously above the two demons as they walked. Unlike the Sins, the dark didn’t trouble them. Those of Hell were all too familiar with it.

Beelzebub stopped before a door and gestured to it. “This izz the one.”

Dagon, Lord of the Files, looked to the door. A glowing signature that rather resembled a cursive letter ‘J’ burned above it. The door shook, and the chains barring it shut rattled. Dust puffed from the door’s seams as the Sins slammed against it from the other side.

“Shall I open it?” Dagon asked. “There’ll be no getting them back in there once it’s opened.”

“We may not be able to destroy Crowley, but that doesn’t mean we have to do him any favorzzz. If he wishes to live on Earth, let Earth have all of him.”

Dagon nodded and produced a crowbar. Board after board began to fall, clattering to the ground in a racket that was still drowned out by the noise of all the Sins. As the barricade weakened, the Sins behind the exiled demon’s door grew increasingly aggressive, pounding harder and more frequently. An eternity of waiting was coming to an end.

As the last board fell, Dagon’s crowbar became a key, and the locks and chains began to clatter to the concrete as well. There were still about ten locks on the door when the Sins busted it open. The dark spirits they embodied soared out from the crypt of a room in a frenzy.

The hallway, although it was as deep in Hell as it could get, froze over. Screaming far too high pitched to be heard brought a chill to the hallway’s only occupants. Not from the cold, but rather from the distress of the Sins. They were only held together by the knowledge that those particular Sins tearing about were not their own.

As the Sins fully grasped their newfound freedom, they gained direction and skyrocketed down the hall, eager to return to the being they haven’t seen since the Fall. He wouldn’t be hard to find. Long ago, they had been one after all.

Dagon and Beelzebub were left in the hallway alone. Although the Sins of every other demon remained behind all the other doors, this one spot in the hall had become eerily quiet. Yet, without the presence of the Sins, both demons felt more at ease.

“It izzz done,” Beelzebub began. “For his sake, I hope the betrayal waz worth it.”

As the Sins piloted their way through every layer of Hell, the demons occupying them all felt a rather uncomfortable shiver down their spines. As one might imagine, this was hardly a normal occurrence. An uncomfortable demon was as much an oxymoron as a faithless priest. Something quite devious had occurred, and all the Fallen of Hell were glad they weren’t on the receiving end of it.

Only God could make an angel Fall from Heaven. To Fall from Hell, on the other hand, required a whole lot less divine intervention as Crowley was soon to find out.


	2. Sharing Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Crowley's Sins catch up to him.

Meanwhile on Earth, an angel and a demon that had chosen humanity over their respective head offices were taking a nice after-dinner stroll through Green Park to where the demon had left his Bentley. They had many conversations over the years stemming from humanity’s true nature to the brain mass of aquatic animals. On this particular day, they were talking about their favorite decade of human culture.

“‘Course the mid-1800s were your time, angel. You haven’t updated your wardrobe since then.” Crowley eyed Aziraphale’s outfit and smirked. “Me though? Big fan of the 1960s.”

“The youth did become rather rowdy during that time,” Aziraphale replied, tearing off a piece of a leftover dinner roll to throw to a duck crossing their path.

The warm summer air was beginning to cool for the year, and this evening was a prime example of that. Although something else entirely might have been bringing the chill to Green Park on this night. Something that was currently racing down Piccadilly as they spoke. Regardless, it was a beautiful, romantic evening, and many couples could be spotted sharing body heat on the sporadic benches along the walking path.

Crowley very much wanted to share one of them with Aziraphale, but he shook that thought out of his head. There was one thing about the 1960s not at all related to human culture that he really didn’t like. One specific event in 1967 that kept him from moving too fast on those thoughts.

“Only you would describe the turf war between the mods and rockers with a term as mild as _rowdy_.” Crowley rolled his eyes with a shake of his head. “Oh, loved the chaos both sides brought about, although never could decide who had the most style.”

“Which side wore the suits? Found that to be a bit more charming than the leather jackets,” Aziraphale asked, wrapping the remainder of the roll in his handkerchief and tucking it into his pocket.

“The same side that rode scooters instead of motorbikes, so they lost any points they gained from attire there. I mean, really? Scooters? Who ever looked at one of those and thought that was the best way to get around?”

“Madame Tracy’s was a bit on the slow side. We would have straight up missed Armageddon had I not taken things into my own hands.”

“Exactly! The things have always been useless.”

“Seems like there were benefits to both sides then.”

“Why I never chose a side myself. Wanted the best of both—”

Crowley was harshly interrupted mid-sentence as a part of himself he abandoned over six thousand years ago finally caught up to him. He came to a complete standstill, and Aziraphale took a few more steps forward before looking back at him.

“Crowley, dear, are you alright?”

The demon stood petrified in place, mouth agape, as if he had just been shot through the neck which, in essence, he had been. He sputtered out a series of syllables which essentially translated into nothing before clutching his chest and falling to his knees.

Needless to say, Aziraphale panicked. His eyes went wide, and he ran up beside the demon and kneeled down to him. He clutched Crowley’s shoulder with one hand and his face with another. “Crowley, Crowley. Look at me! Oh, Heavens above. You have to tell me what’s wrong!”

The demon jittered rather irregularly. His sunglasses fell to the ground, revealing that his eyes were darting about in a similar fashion. Merely two words escaped his lips. “Holy fuck.”

Aziraphale gave up on holding Crowley’s shoulder, deciding instead to use his hands to cup Crowley’s face. “I’ve never seen you in such a state. Please, try to calm down. Take a breath. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on!”

“T—thought we all had forgotten about that.” A smile briefly flashed over Crowley’s face before falling back to distress. “I mean, I did. Until now that is.”

“You’re going to have to elaborate a bit more on that. Forgotten what?”

Crowley took a few breaths, slowly regaining his composure. The pain seemed to be subsiding. He pulled Aziraphale’s hands off his face. “Not—not here. Let’ssss just get sssomewhere more private.”

A few onlookers began to crowd. One lady, looking to do more than gawk, came up to the two.

“Is he alright?” she asked Aziraphale.

“Fine. Peachy.” Crowley answered for him. “Mind your own businesssss, lady. C’mon, angel, let’sss go before we attract a crowd.”

Aziraphale did not correct him that is was indeed just him that was gaining attention, and instead helped the demon to his feet. Crowley marched off in the direction he parked, and Aziraphale turned to apologize to the woman. However, neither did Crowley get that far or did Aziraphale get out his apology before the demon let out another garbled yell and fell back to the ground.

“Do you need me to call an ambulance?” The woman asked.

Crowley ignored her. “Aziraphale, just get us out of here.”

“But with all these people watching?”

“Who caresss? They’ll write it off as a group hallucination. I can’t—not here.”

Aziraphale blinked his eyes, coming back to grips with how dire the situation was with Crowley sprawled out in pain on the pavement. Yes, this called for quite the miracle despite how many witnesses were about. “Yes, alright. Very well.”

He snapped his fingers, and both he and Crowley disappeared from Green Park and appeared back at the familiar Soho bookshop. The demon growled and pounded the floor with his fist. Aziraphale, once again, went to his side to aid him.

“Crowley, please tell me something. You’re worrying me sick!”

“Worrying you? That’s the issue? Want to swap placesss?”

“Gladly. If it would at all help you!”

Crowley was silent. He looked down to the floor, huffing out heavy breaths. Once again, he seemed to be at a pause in the pain. It was almost as if—

“Well, aren’t I lucky?” the demon sneered.

“What do you mean by that? You aren’t answering any of my questions, Crowley.”

“J—just stay here. Don’t go anywhere, okay? I’ll tell you.”

“Of course, dear. I don’t plan on leaving you alone when you’re in such a state.”

“Yeah, well, yeah,” Crowley fumbled. “Listen. To put it briefly, Hell’s reunited me with all my Sins, and it’s rather painful.”

Aziraphale straightened up. “Reunited? I didn’t know it was possible to separate.”

“Demons have been doing it since the beginning. Falling hardly felt like warm, summer days and cool breezes. Left most of us unable to do much of anything. So we lobbed off the part causing the pain and moved on.”

“I see…”

“And Hell just handed me a box full of the things on my desk, and my Sins were right on top.”

“Why are you not then…” Aziraphale gestured with his hand. “...crying out now like you were a moment ago?”

Crowley made a rather strange expression. He cocked his head, curled his upper lip, and squinted his eyes which were still certainly visible due to his sunglasses being left behind in the park. A dozen or so words formed from his mouth before he landed on one. “You.”

“Me? What about me?” Aziraphale became rather flustered. “How could I be influencing this at all.”

“You have an, uh, angelic aura. Whole Falling pains revolving around us, well, y’know, losing that.”

“Oh.” The angel’s eyebrows furrowed, and an introspective look took over his face. “So, quite literally, my presence comforts you.”

“Yeah, I guess you could put it like that.”

“In that case, I won’t leave your side until we get all this sorted.”

Crowley’s eyes widened, and he babbled for a moment before pulling himself back into a neutral, less readable appearance. “This isn’t going to be as easy as you think.”

“Well, I’m involved either way. If I’m going to stay next to you to keep you from being distressed, I might as well provide my assistance in any other way possible as well. We’re in this together. Our own side, remember?”

“Using my own words against me, huh?”

“It’s only what you would do.”

“And since when did you start acting like me?”

“Oh, 1601 after I lost a coin flip with you, I believe,” Aziraphale said with a smug grin which became more serious as he returned to the topic at hand. “What exactly are the difficulties here? You were separate from your, um, _Sins_ before. Can you not separate again?”

“Few issues with that.” Crowley stood up, feeling like himself with Aziraphale near. “Nowhere to box up the Sins once they’re out, and we wouldn’t even get that far. It’s a messy process. Removing them, that is. Highly doubt this body would survive that, and unless Adam’s handing out more, I’d be shit out of luck considering Hell’s not going to be keen on giving me one. You know, since they put me in this situation.”

“I see how that makes this tricky.”

“_Tricky_. Yeah, just the word I’d use.” Crowley rolled his eyes.

“We’d have to find some sort of get around, or an alternative solution.” Aziraphale gestured for Crowley to follow him and began walking to his backroom. “If you didn’t experience the pain, there would be no reason to go through the separation process. As we’ve discovered, my aura neutralizes it, but if we could find a way to cancel it out without my presence being necessary, you could simply continue on as normal.”

Aziraphale paced about his backroom. In all sense, having this conversation here rather than in the storefront made no difference in terms of privacy. The shop had been most definitely closed while they were out for dinner. Rather, the angel simply had a better time thinking clearly in this room. It had been where Crowley had talked him into thwarting the Apocalypse, and it was where he had studied Agnes Nutter’s book. If an idea were to strike him, it would be here.

“Are you just pondering out loud, or is this leading somewhere?” Crowley asked, taking a seat. “‘Cause I have absolutely no clue how to do what you’re suggesting.”

“Well, you could atone for them.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no. Yeah, uh huh. Sorry, no.”

“It is how humans overcome their own sins.”

“Yeah, but not human, am I? And I’ll tell you, there was plenty of trying that right after the Fall.”

“Perhaps, that was too soon. The meaning wasn’t there yet.”

“Wasn’t there yet? Oh, if you were anyone else, you stupid bastard.”

“Crowley, please calm down. I didn’t mean any offense by it. I’m only trying to find a way to help you.”

“No. I’m not—I’m not having this conversation. About atonement. About the Fall. None of it.”

Crowley stood and made an effort to leave the room. He got about as far as the doorway before the distance became too great, and he found himself gripping the doorframe in agony. Aziraphale took his arm, and despite his best attempts to shake him off, the angel’s persistence won out and he was returned to the couch. They were both silent as Crowley slowly relaxed.

“I know this is beyond personal,” Aziraphale began. “It’s why I haven’t asked once in the six thousand years I’ve known you. I always thought that if you wanted to tell me, you would. But I’m afraid that’s a luxury neither of us can any longer afford due to our current predicament and this information’s relevance to it. I enjoy your company quite a lot, dear. However, I think we would both quickly tire of the companionship if we could never travel further than ten steps from one another. And I’m your friend, Crowley. After all we’ve been through, you can tell me anything. So please tell me, what did you do to Fall?”

Crowley continued to sit hunched over from his place on the couch, showing no signs of having heard anything Aziraphale just said. Of course, he had. He just wasn’t sure how to react yet. If he had ever thought _this_ conversation would be happening, he would’ve straight up avoided Aziraphale that day in Eden and on every day after. But it was too late for that, and now here the angel was asking something of Crowley he had never intended to give.

He would do anything for Aziraphale and had made a point to show it back in 1941. Crossing consecrated grounds to avert a mere discorporation was crazy, yet he would have done it a million times over. Actions were easy. Aziraphale was the focus. Questions were not. Which was really funny to him in a not at all funny way.

What Aziraphale wanted was something Crowley had been keeping to himself since, well, forever. It was impossible to give, but impossible hardly mattered when Aziraphale was involved. It was impossible for an angel and a demon to be friends. Yet, Aziraphale had said it himself. They were friends. And perhaps that mattered a bit more than keeping secrets. So Crowley decided to share a conversation only God and him had heard before.

“Look, angel, I really didn’t mean to Fall.” He broke his statue-like stillness to look to Aziraphale. “Really just found myself in a mess I couldn’t get out of.”

They were only a few words that hardly went into the specifics, but they still revealed quite a bit. More than Crowley had ever let anyone else know. That was for sure. For one, that he really wasn’t all that into the doom and gloom schtick Hell promoted. Of course, Aziraphale had already come to this conclusion many, many years ago. A demon could hardly show as much good as Crowley had over the centuries without coming across as a bit less than thrilled with their current employment. Still, this was delicate territory, and Aziraphale definitely recognized that.

“What kind of mess exactly? Would you be willing to tell me the story? Your version of it that is.”

Crowley looked up to the ceiling and bit the interior of his cheek. They were bad memories, and he’d much rather bury them in the back of his mind than share them to rot in Aziraphale’s instead. He didn’t want the angel’s pity or worse, his disappointment, but he had already decided to commit to this.

“Listen, before I tell you any of this, you have to remember that this was a different time,” he began. “Things like betrayal and hate and evil didn’t really exist yet. Wasn’t obvious like they are now. This is what made those things exist. So there’s good reason I didn’t see any of them coming.”

“I’m not going to judge you, Crowley.”

“You say that now.” The demon let out a sigh. “Really this whole mess of horrible events started with a chat with a soon-to-be Satan.”


	3. How to Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Crowley recounts the Fall.

There is good reason that the majority of religious folk picture Heaven as an airy, cloudy plane with Pearly Gates and sunny 72 degrees Fahrenheit weather. This is because, in the beginning, Heaven was just that. The sleek, angular office building it became only developed as such to match the growth of humanity. Before there were humans, there was nothing except the natural world, and that’s what Heaven mimicked. Or rather, the natural world mimicked it.

It was in this warm _wonderland_ where only peace existed that a certain redheaded angel found himself _wondering_ quite a bit. Much of which he didn’t keep to himself because there was no reason to, and secrecy was still a foreign concept. So word around Heaven spread about a curious angel that wouldn’t stop asking questions, and not just any questions but prying ones. Questions he very much didn’t need to be asking that involved one very much unheard of word: _why_.

Such a word implied knowing rather than accepting, and most angels didn’t understand the point of that. In fact, it seemed a rather bad thing to be asking. To demand the inner workings of anything seemed absurd. That was for God to know and share at Her own leisure. To make the effort to find out on one’s own instead of waiting for Her to grant the knowledge—well, some would go as far to say that it was simply unangelic.

However, there was one angel that took particular interest upon hearing these rumors. An angel the red-haired one knew by the name of Lucifer who had been around since before almost everyone else. Although age was little more than an arbitrary system of ranking, an audience with an angel of Lucifer’s caliber was not to be ignored. And plus, the redhead had spoken to him quite a few times before.

In the times he had talked to him, Lucifer had seemed like less of a stickler for the rules than most other angels which made the red-haired angel rather fond of him. So the angel met with him one day out on the cloud fields far from were the rest liked to congregate. Most of Heaven looked the same despite the odd gazebo here and there, but this spot was so far out that the clouds lacked their puffiness and laid rather flat. Perhaps, it should have been a gloomy day considering, but there were none of those up in Heaven.

The redhead had showed up last to the meeting, having chose to walk to the destination rather than fly. He was not unlike any other angel with his pure white wings that stretched from his back. He easily could have flown like Lucifer had done, but he enjoyed being late to the party.

Lucifer, with a smirk on his face, didn’t seem that bothered by the delay. Perhaps this was because time still had no real purpose even though the Archangels insisted otherwise. Or perhaps, it was just a quirk unique to Lucifer to not seem bothered by such trivialities. Either way, the redhead respected his relaxed reaction.

“Glad you decided to join me,” Lucifer began. “Word on the grapevine is that you’re seeking answers? I can help with that, especially for an angel like you. You’re a real go getter.”

The redhead crossed his arms and flicked his wings about. “So you’re not going to tell me to bugger off like everyone else has done so far?”

“Course not. What’s the harm in a few questions? God made you curious in nature, so how could it be wrong?”

“Pfft, all the others seem to think it is. Say I’m questioning God. Big no no. Personally, I don’t think I’m questioning God at all. Rather just showing an interest in what She’s doing.”

It was never dark in Heaven, but it was also not always bright. Although, the sun in the sky wasn’t the actually sun—that one was still being made—the sun of Heaven still set, only to quickly rise before darkness could take over. Such a sunset was happening now, and the whites of Heaven took a more pink tone.

“Would it really be so bad if you were questioning God? Why does She deserve to be free from judgement?”

“Woah, Lucifer, I wouldn’t go that far. I just want to know why She’s doing what She’s doing.”

“But why would you be interested in that if it wasn’t to form an opinion on the rightness of Her actions?” Lucifer leaned toward the other angel. His wing wrapped around the redhead, subtly pulling him closer.

“W—well, you see, I want to know so I can better help Her be successful in whatever end game She has planned for all this.”

“I don’t think God needs any help with that. Her plan is ineffable. It will come into existence with or without you knowing the details. Based on that previous descriptor, likely without. No, you want answers for other reasons.”

Really, the angel didn’t know why he sought answers. He was just pulled towards them. Had been since day one. He didn’t have any intent behind it at all. Simply, he just wanted to know to know.

“Look, if you’re just going to tell me off for asking like everyone else has, I’ll just be on my way. Have a few more star systems to make.”

The angel made a move to leave, but Lucifer loosely grabbed his wrist, pulling him back.

“I’m asking questions too. In fact, darling, there’s quite a few of us thinking the same things as you. With so many of us, the Almighty will have no choice but to listen.”

“So what, you wanna go in demanding answers?”

“That’s a way of wording it, yes. If we’re successful, we’ll have a lot more than answers.” Lucifer’s grip reached further up the redhead’s arm.

“And what might that be?”

“A voice.”

“Please elaborate.”

“Let’s just say we won’t have the issue of being ignored after that.”

“Uh huh.”

“We’ll get you the answers to your questions. Not a secret will be left in all of God’s creation that you won’t know.” Lucifer’s grip softened as he used his thumb to rub the redhead’s arm in a rather comforting manner. “All I ask is that you stand by my side when we go collecting those answers for you.”

“Course,” the redhead answered without much thought. “Whenever you do that, I’ll be right there. Want to hear the words from the source. Not through a game of telephone.”

“Lovely,” Lucifer replied, releasing the angel and taking flight. “It was a real pleasure talking to you, <strike>*******</strike>.”

The sunset reached its lowest point. The pinks had become reds. As Lucifer flew off, his wings looked much too dark to be white. If the redheaded angel named <strike>*******</strike> took the time to look at his own, he’d notice they didn’t look so bright either. But that had to be just the light. All angels had white wings after all.

In a quick moment, the sun would begin to rise again, climbing from where it had just sank instead of appearing on the other side of the horizon. It would be a new day, but it would be backwards from the day before it, and very different than all the ones before that.

*

At some point in the re-telling, Crowley sprawled himself out on the couch he had been sitting at, and Aziraphale had miracled himself a cup of tea. The tea leaves at the bottom of the cup signified a reading that either his true love was closer than he thought or that a major life hurdle would be overcome by looking inside. Whichever one was accurate didn’t matter. Tea leaf readings were a load of poppycock. If his horoscope had said one of these things, now that would be a different story.

“So you were one of the first to be smooth talked by the Devil?” Aziraphale asked, setting aside his cup.

“Eh, wouldn’t say that. He had most of his army by that point.”

“But those were angels that agreed with him.”

“And I agreed with what he told me.” Crowley sat up against the arm of the couch.

“Yes, but I can’t help but feel as though your case is different.”

“Because you know me. Because you heard me tell it.”

“No, because you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t have malicious intent whatsoever.”

The demon sneered. “Didn’t you say you were going to be judgement free?”

“I’m hardly judging you. I’m defending you.”

“It’s still a judgement even if you think it’s in the positive direction.”

“Crowley, what you told me hardly seems like an issue to, um, Fall over. You had a conversation with Lucifer where he was being purposefully concealing. Where are you at fault?”

“Look, that’s not all of it. That was just the start of it all. Just allow me a moment to deal with revisiting these blasts to the past before I tell the rest, would ya? It’s… straining.”

“Oh, yes. Quite sorry. I’ll give you a moment.”

“I know you don’t have any age old trauma to dig up, but I’ll tell you, it’s not a fun thing to disturb.” Crowley rubbed his temples with one hand and a bottle of brandy appeared in his other. “Oh, I told you this was going to be a real mess.”

“More for you than me I’m afraid, dear.”

“Yeah, well that’s better than the alternative.” He took a swig from the bottle and offered it to Aziraphale, who took it after a moment of consideration. “You don’t have any reason to deserve to feel like shit.”

“I’m not convinced that there’s a reason that you should deserve to either.”

“Fine. You know what? Fine. Give me that back.” He took the bottle back and downed far more that a few shots worth. “I’ll just tell you now since you’re so impatient.”

“Crowley, I didn’t mean that at all.”

“No. Can’t stand having you not understand. Worse than me just telling it. So I’m just going to do that so you can stop acting like I’m so innocent.”

*

The Civil War of Heaven took place on a day that was shaping up to be just like all the ones before it. Angels went about business as normal, taking records that would eventually evolve into complicated paperwork in the far future. There was talk and laughter and something that would come to be known as peace. It was a word that had never been needed because it was a state that never changed. There was always peace. Existence was peace. There was no need for both terms. But on this day, existence was no longer that, so with the birth of havok also came the birth of peace even though the term would never take precedence in Heaven again.

<strike>*******</strike> had met with Lucifer earlier that day. When he casually strode into their meeting spot, he had been surprised by quite a few more angels being there than just Lucifer. Quite the gaggle of them were there. Another redhead. One with black hair. One with blonde. And one that was about a foot shorter than the rest of them. That one stood closest to Lucifer.

The air felt strange. There was a tingle to it, and all the other angels seemed to feel it as well. No one seemed capable of standing still. In fact, they all seemed rather eager for something. The calming nature of Heaven had taken a rather electric tone.

“Today’s the day, <strike>*******</strike>,” Lucifer said as the redhead approached. “Today Heaven takes a turn for the better.”

“It’s just some questions,” the redhead replied. “Don’t know if it’s that big of a deal.”

“Oh, it’s far more than questions. It’s a call for justice. To stand on equal grounds with God. To show we deserve to know as much as Her.”

“That seems a bit more extreme than what we talked about.” <strike>*******</strike> took a step back. “I just want to know what the point of those _humans_ She’s making is. Things like that. She just does things and has us do things without a clear purpose. Why am I throwing creation dust into the sky? What’s the point of that?”

“All great things to ask. She keeps us in the dark because She doesn’t think we deserve to know. She is above us, so only She can hold the answers. For Her to share, we’ll have to prove otherwise.”

“Look, I thought this was just going to be a nice little appointment with the Almighty. You’d use the favoritism She has for you to put in some good words for me, and maybe I’d come out a bit more knowledgeable. Really, wasn’t expecting all this.”

“You already gave me your word, <strike>*******</strike>. Said you’d be by my side through this. We are stronger together. The others can’t quiet all of us. She can’t quiet us.”

“That’s nice and all, but I’m not looking to cause any trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Stir up anything. Cause drama. That kind of stuff on a small scale, I’m all for. But this looks like something way too serious for me. You lot are not going to be having such a good time by the end of all this.”

“You’re one of us whether you accept that now or later. An angel’s word holds a lot of weight. I imagine you’re no exception to that.” Lucifer stared the redhead in the eyes—eyes that wouldn’t look like that for much longer. “But I understand your concern. Voicing an opposing opinion to what’s accepted is scary. This isn’t some little issue like when Sandalphon accidentally turned the charming little mosquito into a buzzing bloodsucker. This is two sides of a coin. But half of Heaven stands behind me. There’s no need to be afraid. The voice of half of Heaven isn’t something to berate.”

“Berating seems like the least of the worries.”

“Here. How about this? You promised me that you’d be at my side when we went to get you the answers you seek. Do that for me. Join us as we go to confront the others. Once we’re there, you can decide whose side you’ll stand on. That way you stay true to your word.”

<strike>*******</strike> chewed on his lip, contemplating Lucifer’s suggestion. He had given his word. That much was true. Frankly, he wasn’t that bothered about fulfilling it. He didn’t value that kind of stuff as much as other angels did. He understood that someone could feel like swinging one way, and then the next day, have changed their mind to something else.

Still, Lucifer was a bad bridge to burn. And if half of Heaven stood behind him, that was half of Heaven that wouldn’t be too fond of <strike>*******</strike> if he did back out. And it was just a walk. Lucifer had left him with his choice. If things went south, he could always jump ship.

“Fine,” the redhead replied. “That sounds fair enough.”

The center of Heaven was where everyone liked to congregate. It was a nice spot to meet up with other angels because no matter where anyone was, the hike to the center wasn’t that long of a walk. As such, this is where <strike>*******</strike> and Lucifer headed, followed by an army of angels that continued to grow in numbers as they marched.

Word spread fast, and when they reached Heaven’s center, the majority of the other half of Heaven was already there. The events of Heaven tended to be on the rather mild side. Announcements of a new creature coming into existence or of a new continent on Earth finally being finished. Just words. Actions did not happen in Heaven. But then again, this wasn’t a normal day in Heaven.

“What’s going on here?” asked an Archangel whose name the redhead knew this day but would not the next.

“We’ve come to be heard,” Lucifer replied. “We’re tired of living beneath God, and shall no longer do so. She may have spawned all creation, but why must that mean that She is better than all of it?”

The Archangel took a sharp breath and straightened up. “Lucifer, is that what you really think? That God finds Herself superior than us all? All that She does is for Her creations. She lives to serve us as much as we live to serve Her.”

“I see why you would believe that, Archangel. Your position alone puts you closer to Her than any of us. But your words simply aren’t true. She could make us as equals to Her. Grant us the power to do as She does. Share with us the secrets of the universe. And yet, She chooses not to for She believes only She alone deserves the title of God.”

The Archangel turned to the redhead. “You, <strike>*******</strike>, do you believe this as well? Is this where your questions have led? To you standing here against God?”

The redhead cringed. “Against God is a rather harsh judgement.”

“But one that is completely accurate,” the Archangel continued. He turned back to Lucifer before <strike>*******</strike> could further clarify. “I can’t let you continue on. Not with an army of angels that aren’t willing to compromise. Disband them and let us talk. I’m sure you can see the greater good still.”

“No. I believe it is too late for that.”

As the words left Lucifer’s mouth, he produced a dagger from his robe. The blade burned, not with fire that the redhead would later see on a sword in Eden but with fire that was much more angry. He plunged the dagger into the Archangel’s chest, twisting the weapon as it went in.

A horrible gurgle escaped the throat of the Archangel as he fell to the ground. His being quickly dispersed into a million glowing orbs. The Archangel was gone, and a new word had been invented. Murder.

Another word quickly followed that one. Revenge. One half of Heaven leapt upon the other. Angels of both sides pulling their own weapons into existence. They didn’t burn with the flames of Lucifer’s dagger. Where he got such a fire, nobody knew. But every other angel’s weapons glowed with flame nonetheless.

Robes were torn and celestial bodies were injured. Brother and sister were pitted against one another. The shorter angel that had walked with them, leapt at those that were at the Archangel’s side. War was not invented on Earth by humans, but rather up in Heaven by angels. Some took to the skies in airborne combat, swooping down to the fights below to take strikes. Some quickly fell and found the fights of many, trampling them.

The redhead didn’t engage, but rather stood staring at the chaos that had broken out in front of him. Everyone knew everyone in Heaven. There wasn’t a faceless angel in the crowd. Now was the time to pick a side, but the redhead didn’t. Merely he watched it all play out, unable to move one way or the other. How could one choose between two sides of the same family?

The fight raged on, and <strike>*******</strike> found himself pushed to the side and down to the ground. In a battle of this caliber, no one had time to consider the angel that wasn’t fighting. Whether there were any other casualties than the Archangel, the redhead didn’t know. The only thing that was clear, was that a great deal of those on the ground right now were in a great deal of pain. The Archangel would have been a much needed help.

A sudden change overtook the battleground. The light grew dim in Heaven although the sun was still high in the sky. God had made Her presence known even though She didn’t take form. All fighting immediately stopped.

The clouds of Heaven became wispy, becoming little more than water vapor in air, and Lucifer’s army could no longer stand on them. The condemned angels sank through the floor of Heaven while the rest looked on from Above. They were not smug or arrogant in appearance, but rather wore expressions of pity and exhaustion. They hadn’t wanted to fight their brothers and sisters, but it was too late for that now. There was grieving to be had. God had stepped in as referee, and Lucifer’s army was no longer welcome.

<strike>*******</strike> watched as they slipped away. He had stood—or well laid—in the middle the whole fight, not taking up arms against angel on either side. He could’ve fought if he wanted too, or at least, he wanted to believe that. It was simply that he couldn’t choose whose side to join. He didn’t want to choose a side. He wanted to be on both—to have the best of each side—but now here he was. His inaction had decided for him. He was left in Heaven while Lucifer and his half of angels slipped away to somewhere else. And that wasn’t something he felt all that good about.

That thought only lasted a moment before the redhead found himself sinking in the very cloud he now stood on as well. His eyes grew wide, and he scrambled to pull himself up, but he only grabbed fists of air.

Why him? He hadn’t done anything? Just let things happen without his input. Had his few talks with Lucifer incriminated him by association? Was it his inborn curiosity? His failure to stand on God’s side? None of that meant he was on Lucifer’s!

Even still, he was asking questions—the very stupid thing that had got him in this situation. He couldn’t just accept God’s punishment. He had to question it too. Maybe that’s the real reason he was here.

This tangled mess of thoughts didn’t last long as the redhead Fell through the clouds and started his saunter downward that really wasn’t a saunter at all but an alarmingly fast tumble with wind cutting his face. The light of Heaven faded above him along with all the warmth it had, replaced by the burning of his wings and the hollowing of his chest. The angel named <strike>*******</strike> was dead, and now all that was left was a demon who was equally bad at sticking to one side.

*

“There. Now you get it?” Crowley asked, gesturing in the air. “Hardly all in the right, am I? Just stood there when Lucifer murked an Archangel, and didn’t even fight against him or anyone else when the brawl broke out.”

“I can’t say any of that changes my opinion,” Aziraphale replied.

“And why not? How do you falsely justify that?”

“For starters, dear, I couldn’t bare to pick up arms against any angel during that spat as well.”

“W—wait. You were there?”

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I have been? All of Heaven was there.”

“I, um—I guess I always figured you didn’t exist yet at that point.”

Aziraphale’s face scrunched up, and he fell back against his chair. “Really? Why would you think a thing like that?”

“Well, because I didn’t recognize you in Eden. Don’t think I would’ve ever forgotten a face like yours.” Crowley, realizing what he just said, quickly jumped to the next sentence. “A—and you seemed less than competent with that sword. Swinging it about. And then by the time I got to you, you didn’t even have it anymore. Didn’t seem like a thing an angel that lived through that would’ve done.”

“I suppose that’s a logical deduction to have made,” Aziraphale replied rather mindlessly. He was still more than caught up on the first part of what Crowley said.

A short silence followed, teetering on the side of awkward, before Aziraphale spoke again. “Crowley, do you think this perhaps has nothing to do with God’s forgiveness but rather with your forgiveness for yourself?”

Crowley let out a laugh that sounded a bit too forced. “No. I didn’t make myself Fall, did I? God did that all on Her own.”

“Yes, but even just from the way you’ve been talking about it now, you seem quite guilty about it. And as you described it, you were the last one to Fall.”

“I fail to see how either of those things are relevant to one another.”

“Perhaps, you felt like you deserved to be punished, so God entertained your wish.”

“If that’s the case, that’s a pretty cruel thing to do. Not really a crime fit the punishment type scenario.” Crowley stood up. “Hardly the actions of a God that’s supposed to be all kind and loving. Feel regret? Well, maybe you won’t if every atom of your being is on fire. Can’t feel much other than that at all!”

“This is the same God that instigated the whole Noah’s Ark situation,” Aziraphale replied.

“If I didn’t know any better, angel, I’d say it sounds like you’re talking poorly about the Almighty.”

“I’m allowed my opinions as long I have faith in God’s Plan. I’m merely stating that the stipulations for your Fall might have been different than the others’ amongst Lucifer’s ranks.”

“So what’s that mean then, Aziraphale? How’s that supposed to solve the whole Sin problem?”

“Well, it gives us a goal. You need to move on from that whole ordeal, so it no longer weighs you down.”

“Uh huh.”

“Crowley, please. Don’t shut yourself off to this. Just humor me.”

“Oh, I do find this very humorous.” Despite saying that, Crowley wasn’t laughing at all. “Really didn’t think me telling you that whole story would result in you trying to fix me.”

“I’m not trying to fix you. You’re perfectly fine the way you are.” Aziraphale eyes widened for a moment as those words tumbled out. “I, um, just want to help you be happier. And in doing that, perhaps it solves the Sins problem.”

“This isn’t something I just snap my fingers and get over, y’know,” Crowley replied, trying very hard to not read too much into the first part of what Aziraphale had said. “Spent over six thousand years attempting that, and, well, haven’t made that much progress.”

“The difference is that now you have me helping you.”

“Not to downplay your abilities or anything, but I’m not sure having you on the team changes all that much.”

“It most certainly does. Just in this evening I’ve gotten you to talk all about your, uh, issues and view them through a new light. I will say, I’m not exactly sure how to handle the whole moving on process, but I’m sure if we put our heads together, we could formulate a plan.”

“You brainstorm all you want. I’m going to sleep on it. That is if you don’t plan on leaving this room. Had some of my best ideas sleeping.” Crowley smothered a throw pillow over his face.

“Yes, I suppose it is getting rather late, and considering the more than exciting evening we’ve had, I don’t blame you for being tired. I, on the other hand, much prefer to think in full consciousness although I will remain in here.”

“Lovely.” The reply came out quite muffled from beneath the pillow. “‘G’night, angel.”

“Sleep well, Crowley.”

The lamp on Aziraphale’s desk dimmed to the brightness of a nightlight. Still, Crowley rolled towards the back of the couch away from it. A few long moments passed before Aziraphale caught himself staring at the sleeping demon. He had found himself thinking his own questions, and not all of them related to solving the Sins dilemma.

The angel turned towards the contents on his desk. It’s not like anything there would aid him. He greatly doubted his books on philosophy and human history would hold the key to demonic therapy. This problem was going to require some good old fashioned brainpower. But at least when turned to his desk, he could focus on the task at hand.

He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. Although it made the softest of taps in the otherwise silent room, Crowley didn’t seem all that bothered by it. In fact, if he wasn’t curled into the back of the couch, the faintest of smiles may have been visible on his face.

As the evening grew to an end in this Soho bookshop, something much more horrific was occurring elsewhere. In a hallway in the depths of Hell in the room belonging to a certain exiled demon, the wall linking it to an adjacent room burst open. As bricks hit the floor and dust filled the air, the dark spirits of the cell next door flooded into the abandoned room.

Sins may have been wild and chaotic, but they also knew how to critically think. The door from which Crowley’s Sins had been released had remained open as Beezlebub and Dagon returned to the levels of Hell above. In was a small act neither of them had thought much of. But to the Sins that had been desperate to escape since before the dawn of humanity, it was quite the opportunity.

A door boarded up with a hundred planks and a thousand locks might have been enough to contain them, but a thin wall connecting their cells was not. So the Sins of many other demons began to pour out of the room Beezlebub and Dagon had opened, and set to work on freeing those still barred on the other side of the hallway. Pandora’s box had been opened, and now, more demons than just Crowley were going to pay for it.


	4. The Monster of the Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aziraphale and Crowley go on a day holiday of their own.

The aroma of eggs, sausage, and bacon the next morning awoke Crowley in a very confused state before all the pieces began to click back into place. A walk through the park. A literal Hell of a lot of pain. Spilling quite too much info in the heat of the moment. And Aziraphale by his side as he drifted off. Things were different today, weren’t they? Much different than yesterday or ten years ago or six thousand. Well, he’d have to face it all eventually. Might as well be now. He forced his eyes open.

Aziraphale sat on the same chair as the night before, facing Crowley with a plate on his lap. Upon seeing that the demon was awake, his face blushed pink and he turned back to his desk.

“Ah, good morning, Crowley. I wasn’t sure how long you would sleep for. You have a bit of a record for oversleeping.”

“Be a bit rude if I slept for a decade and made you sit in this room the whole time.”

“Well, I appreciate you considering the value of my time.” The angel took a bite of eggs. “Would you like some? I couldn’t leave obviously, so I miracled myself breakfast. Could do the same for you if you like.”

“Not hungry.”

“You never are.”

“You think of a plan last night? Cause my mind was elsewhere in dreamland.”

Aziraphale set his plate on the desk and turned back to Crowley. Half of his breakfast still remained on it. Never a good sign when the angel turned away from his meal. “I did a lot of thinking.”

“And?”

“You’re not going to like this.”

“Haven’t liked any of all this so far, so what else is new?”

“Basically, I’ve come to the conclusion that all of your Hellish actions are done to, ah, spite God for putting you in the situation you are in.”

“So far so accurate.”

“But then your immoral acts make you feel as though you deserve to have Fallen which thus fuels your refusal to forgive yourself.”

The demon’s expression stiffened, hiding whether Aziraphale had said an accurate statement or not. “And how’s that a plan to fix this exactly?”

"Well, because Crowley, everything you've done has had a positive effect despite your best effort to do evil. Which means that you shouldn’t feel negatively about them."

"Really? I beg to differ."

"Go ahead,” The angel leaned back in his chair. “List off as many of your acts of evil as you want, and I'll point out the good in them."

"How 'bout the time I took down all of London's phone lines?"

"You kept people off their mobile phones while driving and caused others to visit loved ones in person that they otherwise would've just briefly spoke to in a conversation void of face-to-face connection."

"That's a bit of a stretch, don't you think?"

"Not at all. The irritation you caused people was heavily outweighed by the strengthening of relationships and averted vehicular accidents."

Crowley sat up on the couch and leaned back against it. So it was going to be like this, huh? A back and forth. Regarding his torments of mankind, his list was endless. He was ready to do this all day if Aziraphale allowed.

"Fine. I've caused so much trouble that you can have that one. French Revolution, guillotines."

"You said you had no involvement in that! The humans did all that on their own."

"Well, they did, but I took credit for it. That has to count for something."

"It certainly does not. You claiming ownership for that mess in your reports to Hell hardly influences human behavior."

"Ah, but there's no positive of me doing it. Stealing the credit is straight up wrong."

"Seriously now? I'm the one that's stretching things?"

The demon had said that one mostly just to rile Aziraphale up. It was a fun thing to poke at considering he had almost gotten himself discorporated during it because he had been a bit peckish. He knew that one wasn’t a win. It was just fun to say. But enough games. He needed a point in this competition.

"Loch Ness Monster."

"What?"

"I started the good ol' rumor of Nessie. Caused quite the panic. People too terrified to swim in the lake. Nothing even in there. The human mind's a great thing. Just torments itself if you let it."

There was no debating that one. Crowley was sure of it. Causing mass hysteria over a nonexistent monster. That was as evil as you get without going around murdering folks. And oh, the inaccuracies to those rumors. Quite damaging towards humanity’s perception of the natural world. A stain on a place that had once been wholesome.

"Loch Ness? You believe you've caused more harm than good with Loch Ness? As much as I dislike the spread of misinformation, I can't agree with that." Aziraphale stood up, straightened his coat, and took a few steps towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Crowley moved to the end of the couch. This wasn’t how the back and forth went. They’d go on for hours talking but never actually do anything about what they talked about. Today really was different.

"_We_ are going to Scotland, so I can prove just how wrong you are."

“That’s rather impulsive, isn’t it?”

“Would you rather stay here all day?”

“Nah. Wanna go to Scotland. Let’s go to Scotland. Not like we got a major problem or anything like that to deal with,” Crowley replied with a very sarcastic shrug.

“This is solving the problem. If I prove you right, you’ll see what I mean. If I don’t, well, we’ll of had a nice day out.”

“Hope you don’t plan on driving there. Don’t feel like going through traffic for ten hours there and another ten back.”

“Not at all. I would just like to straighten up some things before we go.”

“Going to use miracles on traveling convenience, angel? See why you were being told off for frivolous usage.”

“This whole ordeal we have going on is more than enough reason for me to be using miracles, and even if that wasn’t the case, I can use as many miracles as I desire now that I’m not associated with Heaven.”

“Where was that logic when I was lying on the pavement yesterday?”

“I’d still prefer not to have witnesses, dear.” Aziraphale opened the backroom door. “Now, come on. Let me check the shop before we go.”

*

They appeared somewhere along the A82 near River Enrick when they arrived in Scotland. After straightening their clothes that were ruffled by the wind their displacement of the air during their teleportation had created, they found themselves in a rather desolate area, hidden from any onlookers. A short hike up a hill later and they found themselves at Loch Ness Centre & Exhibition. It was the standard tourist attraction, equipped with a hotel, a gift shop, and a supposingly educational building that delved into the complex history of the very made up monster.

Herds of families with energetic tots and moody teens scurried from building to building, desperate to get their money’s worth on this last minute, end of summer holiday. The children hugged plush Nessies and held colorful balloons. Some ran around amuck, seemingly unfazed by the possibility of parental wrath. Other mothers and fathers, with much better control over their offspring, walked either with their hands linked with their child’s or with the kid sat up on their shoulders.

A blue bus with the name Nessieland on the side was parked outside the visitor center, and many groups of tourists, especially those with young children, scurried from the gift shop onto it. There was giggling and excitable screams and the sound of suitcase wheels on pavement and all the noises one would expect from a place like this that drowned out any sense of peace of mind. Simply, the place was more like that of Disneyland than the setting of a monster flick.

One father, chasing a rather rowdy kid, brushed past Aziraphale and Crowley as they approached. The man muttered a quick apology before continuing to run after his child. If anything was left of Crowley’s influence here, it was the pure chaotic energy of having so many people in such a small place.

“So, dear, where is the evil here?” Aziraphale asked, giving Crowley a side glance. “All I see is happy families making pleasant memories.”

“Look, you should’ve seen this place in the 30s.” Crowley stepped up onto the curb and looked back at the angel. “Monster hunters and distraught locals. Fear running rampant. Just ‘cause it’s not like that now doesn’t mean anything. Set the ball rolling for all this way back in the sixth century. Just because the past handful of decades have been pleasant doesn’t right all that.”

“Are you actually sure anyone was ever really terrified? There was never any real monster, so no one was ever in any real danger. Seems like people were attracted to the idea of it for the marvel more than anything else.”

They strolled down the sidewalk absentmindedly as they talked. A young boy tapped on the window of the hotel as they passed, waving to his mother inside. The ice cream cone he was licking dripped down the glass.

“You can’t just do this. Write off everything I’ve ever done no matter how evil and destructive to mankind it was.”

“Crowley, if you had ever done something pure evil, I would be the first one to point it out. In fact, if you were that heinously evil, our relationship probably would’ve ended the day it began.”

“I think,” Crowley began, brushing over that last part. “That you’re being completely delusional.”

“Me? Delusional?” Aziraphale scuffed. “I believe only Serganent Shadwell has said a more inaccurate description of me.”

“You are though. You’ve gone on and on. And I’ve played along. Listing small things here and there. But I was the one behind the whole apple thing, remember? Made all of them Fall just like me.” The demon waved out to the crowds of tourists around them. “Isn’t that just horrible? Couldn’t go down alone, so I brought them all with me. You can’t say that’s a good thing.”

“The day we met in Eden I remember you asked me something.” Aziraphale stopped walking and looked to Crowley. “_What if I did the right thing with the whole ‘eat the apple’ business?_ Well, it’s taken me some time to come to the answer to that question, and I do think you did the right thing by it.”

“Right thing? Even if it was the right thing, that doesn’t make it a good one.”

“It does. It really does. Can’t you see the beauty behind it? The curiosity? The awe? Don’t you remember dear Warlock’s face that first night he looked through a telescope? How purely innocent and heartwarming his expression was? Humanity’s Fall was hardly as painful as yours. They fell onto a pillow if anything. Knowledge has been nothing but a gift for them.” The angel smiled as he let out a small huff of a laugh. “You’ve spent the past six thousand years trying to do evil in the most good way possible. How does that not show the nature of your character?”

Crowley did the living being equivalent of a computer blue screening after some program or another got caught in an infinite loop of not responding. The spinning cursor of death was practically visible in the lens of his sunglasses. He stood frozen, mouth agape with a word on the tip of his tongue. This whole direct method Aziraphale was trying was much too world shattering. They were wired to work indirectly. That’s how it had been for the past six millennia. This new angle the angel was taking was really messing with his demonic identity.

As he whirled back to life and his brain conducted a manual restart, Crowley merely turned around and hastily entered the gift shop they had stopped in front of without giving Aziraphale a reply. Of course, they had to stay near each other. That was the whole condition this Sins problem presented. And perhaps Crowley should have considered this, but that program hadn’t rebooted yet. Still, the demon didn’t seize up in pain as he entered the shop because Aziraphale had the sense to follow him in.

“Want a shirt?” Crowley asked once inside. “Or how about a mug? I know you like mugs.”

He was trying to change the subject, and Aziraphale decided he was going to let him. He had put the thought in Crowley’s head. That was good enough for now. They were hardly on a time restraint after all, and he really didn’t want to make Crowley miserable.

“Perhaps, if they have something with a bit more charm to it.” He lifted up a cup from a shelf, raised his nose to it, and set it back down. “I really can’t imagine anything with the text _I love Nessie_ sitting around the bookshop.”

“Ah, that limits your selection by a whole lot. Maybe a postcard then.”

They wandered about the store for a bit, slipping past other customers and picking up the odd item here and there. Crowley, with a dubious smile, held a stuffed Nessie and waved its little flipper at Aziraphale before tucking the thing back where he found it. Perhaps the plush winked at the angel as he passed, or it could’ve simply been a trick of the light.

They slid past another family with a fair share of munchkins as they circled around to the other side of the store. The gift shop simply was too small for the amount of people trying to cram themselves into it, and it was making the place a tad on the uncomfortable side. Or maybe it just felt that way to two celestial beings that valued their personal space.

In the end, Aziraphale settled on a book detailing the history of the Loch Ness Monster rumor. It wasn’t a book he would normally get, and he could simply ask Crowley to tell him the history since he had been the one behind it, but hearing it from a human perspective had its own appeal. And maybe Crowley’s involvement is what inclined the purchase. It would paint the whole book in a new light. Not that he handled the purchase. For some reason, when they were together, the demon always ended up paying for things.

“Would you look at that,” Crowley said, gesturing to a flier as the cashier finalized the payment. “Place offers private cruises. Think they might have one mysteriously open for today? Because for some odd reason, I do.”

“If there is one available,” Aziraphale began with a stern glare. “I’d hope it’s not because whoever previously booked it suddenly found themselves in some trouble.”

“Nah, they probably just discovered a winning lotto ticket amongst their things.”

“And you still have the nerve to refute your inner good.”

“Greed is a sin, angel.”

Crowley took back his card and Aziraphale his book, and the two of them left the store, leaving behind a rather confused cashier who really didn’t understand anything of the conversation he had just heard.

An hour later, Loch Ness was more mythical than it had ever been with an angel and a demon enjoying a boat ride on its open waters. What had been a spontaneous visit to prove a point had turned into a full on enjoyable day out. The lake was calm, with the boat causing deeper ripples in the supposedly monster-infested waters than those naturally there. The occasional sailboat dotted the surface around them, and the steep Scottish hills surrounding the lake provided a healthy green to the landscape. Really, it was absolutely peaceful.

Aziraphale and Crowley sat on the upper deck of the boat as it slowly drifted about, the hum of the motor hardly noticeable. Urquhart Castle passed by on the starboard side. A few tourists visiting the historical site waved to them as they passed. Aziraphale, of course, happily waved back. Crowley, well, couldn’t be bothered.

“We should get out more often,” the demon said, stretching out in the sun. “As enjoyable as walking the same paths in St. James Park can be, I like being reminded of the rest of the world.”

“I have been rather settled in London for a long time,” Aziraphale agreed. “Have you put any thought into what I said earlier, dear?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it, and I’m still not all that fond of it.”

“Why? Why would you having done good over all these years be a bad thing? You don’t have to be evil on Hell’s behalf any longer.”

“Yeah, and you don’t have to be good on Heaven’s either, but that doesn’t stop you from lending a helping hand where you can.”

“I try to spread good into the world because it is what I enjoy doing.”

“And you don’t think I enjoy being evil?”

“No, I don’t. I think you enjoy being mischievous which is entirely different. It can still be devious, but typically those affected are only inconvenienced and perhaps even helped by the end of it.” Aziraphale smiled.

“Oh, give me the strength to not jump off this boat right now. Please, I beg you.”

“I highly advise you to not do that. With your dependence on me, you might just end up drowning yourself.”

“Could’ve just said I’d ruin my clothes. Would’ve had the same effect.”

“Well, there is that too.” The angel furrowed his brows. “I don’t completely understand why you’re fighting me on this. Isn’t it easier to forgive yourself for Falling if you know you have hardly caused turmoil here on Earth?”

“No, it’s not at all easier. If everything I’ve done has been all happy-go-lucky goodness, then all that does is hammer the nail in deeper that I shouldn’t have Fallen in the first place.” Crowley leaned away from Aziraphale. “Which really pisses me off.”

“Perhaps those are emotions you should be feeling. Ones that you need to face instead of continue to ignore.”

“You telling me it’s okay to be pissed at God?”

“I—well—um—given the circumstances, I think She would understand. You’d hardly be the first to have taken that tone with the Almighty.”

“I beg to differ on that.”

“What I mean is that many people blame God for hardships, and She forgives them for it. She forgives all that ask.”

“Really now?”

“Has any other demon asked to be forgiven besides you?”

“How would I know that?”

“Given the actions of your ex-coworkers, I think not. And I’ve already said, I think what holds you back is your own forgiveness, Crowley. The Almighty forgave you the moment you asked.”

Crowley sneered and looked out to the water. The boat continued on, steered by the oblivious captain below them. The remains of Urquhart Castle shrank in the distance. Aziraphale took a deep breath and straightened up.

“I only say these things because I care about you, dear,” he began. “But I understand if this is something too difficult to face. It’s like unmasking an unhealed wound, and I’m sure even just discussing it with me has been causing you distress. If you really want me to stop pushing you on this I will.”

“What?” Crowley looked back to him. “And have me stuck at your side for every waking moment for eternity? Is that the plan?”

“There are far worse people to be around. If I had to pick someone to be joined at the hip with, I would certainly choose you anyway. I don’t much like acting like an instigator. Pushing and prodding you to do something you don’t want to. I think I’ve done enough of it lately.”

“So that’s just it then? We just always stick together?”

“Until you wish to try something else. I’ll let you take lead on this. However you want to handle this Sins problem will be how we handle it.”

“Look, I’m not against this whole talking thing. Let’s just take it a bit easier. At this point, I’ve spent more time playing the part of the hellspawn demon than that of the holy angel.”

“Of course. I understand. But you are willing to make an effort then?”

“Yeah. Just ‘cause you want me to.”

The boat began to turn course back around. They had gone out as far as the trip allowed and soon enough would return back to the port where all the other cruise boats were docked. There had been progress made today, even if it was minor. Still, progress was progress. There was no rush. They had all the time in the world. Although a visitor that was waiting for them at the dock certainly didn’t feel that way.


	5. Resolving Sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which questions are answered and solutions are found.

As Aziraphale and Crowley stepped off the boat and onto the empty docks, a smell much like that of sulfur took precedence in the air. The wind crackled and popped, and the environment gave off all the signs of warning for volcanic activity which was extremely odd given that Scotland didn’t have any volcanoes. The captain, that was leading them off the dock, took off running for the main building.

The concrete cracked and black smoke poured from it. The fiery smell grew stronger. Then, an arm shot out from the smoke like that of a zombie from a grave. It tore itself up out of the ground, unveiling its owner to be that of Lord Beezlebub who, despite coming from Hell, didn’t look so hot.

“Crowley,” they growled as they pulled themselves along on the ground. “You vile traitor!”

“Loved the entrance,” Crowley replied as the Lord of Flies struggled to stand. “But it’s not Halloween just yet.”

“How did you do it?!?” Beezlebub limped towards him. “Past every devil and demon?!?”

“Sorry, what now?”

“Don’t play the fool. You released all the Sinzzz as revenge for us releasing yourzzz.”

“Oh really now?” Crowley smirked. This was too easy. “I did warn you to leave me alone. Shame you didn’t listen to that.”

“We will find a way to destroy you for thizzz. Once the hallway is fixed and we discorporate ourselvezz into being az fine as you seem to be.” A terrible shiver made its way through them.

“You’re not, um, feeling better yourself?” Aziraphale asked, taking a tentative step forward.

Beezlebub spat in Aziraphale’s direction. It burned through the concrete. “Thizzz doesn’t concern you, Principality. If thizz findz itz way to Heaven’zzz earz, we’ll find a meanz to your end as well.”

Crowley stepped between his ex-boss and Aziraphale. His eyes narrowed. “Have to say, it was real brave of you to come here all alone. You really don’t know what we’re capable of, do you?”

“You would’ve done something by now.”

“You might like playing your best card first, but I like to build up to it.”

“And destruction would be an acceptable alternative than living through this again,” Beezlebub replied through gritted teeth. They fell to a knee.

“Oh come off it. All you lot have to do is fix up the Sin prison. You got off easy.”

“A tormented demon isn’t a reliable worker. You know how long it took to build the first time.”

“Well then,” Crowley began with a growing grin. “What are you wasting your time here for?”

“You’ve bought yourself some time, Crowley. But it won’t be long before the last grain of sand falls. I don’t know how you fixed yourself without destroying that body, but we will reunite you with your Sinzzz once again, and then you won’t be gifted the privilege of living on Earth with your pain. After this, all of Hell wants to see you struggle.”

With that, Lord Beezlebub melted into the ground and evaporated into a swarm of flies, leaving the Earth to deal with a Hell that was a lot more hellish than it had been in quite some time. The smokey air began to dissipate and time seemed to resume as normal as the birds ended their intermission and begin to sing once more.

“That was… odd,” Aziraphale said as the demonic traces finally wore off.

“They couldn’t even punish me without screwing over themselves. Bellends, the whole lot of them. Things like this almost make me think that God gives a damn.”

“Crowley, did you notice what I did?”

“Which is what?”

“That Beezlebub was in pain that whole time and that they seemed to think you had successfully separated from your Sins.”

“Yeah?”

“Wouldn’t my aura have helped them as well?”

The demon opened his mouth to speak but then clamped it shut. That was odd, wasn’t it? Why would Aziraphale’s aura help him and not Beezlebub? They had both lost their own angelic aura, so shouldn’t they both be relieved by one?

“That, uh—yeah, that’s strange.” Crowley rubbed the back of his neck.

“There has to be a reason for the discrepancy, right? Perhaps, something that might provide more insight on the whole ordeal?”

“If there’s an answer I don’t have it. Better with questions, myself. Not the best at coming up with the answers.”

“You did think up the plan for us to avert the Apocalypse.”

“One, the End of the World is a great motivator, and two, the plan involved us hanging about the wrong boy for six years. So yeah, answers aren’t my specialty.”

“Could it have something to do with our relationship? That we have known each other for so long and have come to work well together? Perhaps that makes you compatible with my aura but not any other demon.”

“Dunno. For all we know, it could just be because you want to help me and nothing more.” The demon looked back out to the water.

No matter how much he tried to downplay the reason, Crowley couldn’t hide that fact that he was a special case. He was the only demon that could bare their Sins and it was completely because for some reason Aziraphale took away all that pain in him. There was some connection between the two of them that could no longer be shrugged off by geographically similar assignments and shared history. There was something a bit more powerful there that he really didn’t want to think about right now.

“Look,” Crowley continued. “I doubt we’re going to figure all this out in a parking lot, and given the sun’s position, I think we’ve stayed past our welcome.”

Aziraphale looked to the horizon. The sun was indeed setting and long shadows were stretched onto Loch Ness. “Seems that way.”

“We booking a local place or going back to your shop?”

“Actually, I thought we’d spend the night at your place, dear.”

“My place?”

“Well, we spent the past evening at mine, so it’s only fair that we spend this one at yours. It’s hardly fair to force you to spend all your time in my abode. Don’t want to deprive you of your personal space. That is, unless you’d rather not have me there. If it would be an invasion of your privacy.”

“Nah. Told you way more private stuff in the past twenty-four hours than you’d ever find out from my flat. Just don’t really have all the homey stuff there. Thought you would’ve picked up on that from your last visit.”

“Your flat does lack the qualities of a lived-in home, but that’s hardly an issue for us, is it? We could simply spruce the place up for an evening and have it all gone by morning.”

“Oh, that’s going to be one abomination of a sitting room.”

“It will also be a very comfortable one.”

With a roll of his eyes at Aziraphale’s pleasant disposition, Crowley snapped his fingers and the two of them appeared in his flat in all of its dim lighting. The dark color palette of the place didn’t help with that either. A spotlight could be hung from the ceiling and the blacks and greys of the walls would still make the room look dark. Both the angel and demon readjusted themselves with the new locale.

“You’ve got plenty of room in here, dear. I could see a nice reading chair there. Perhaps a loveseat there. Couple of nice lamps to give the place a wonderful glow,” Aziraphale said as he walked around Crowley’s rather minimalistic living space.

“Knock yourself out. Just make the loveseat something longer. Don’t see much point in a couch you can’t lie down on.”

“This is your place, Crowley. You can make it however you want. I was merely suggesting some things since you said it wasn’t very homey.”

“No, I want to see what you’ll do with it. Call me curious.”

The angel’s face brightened into an expression much like that of a bride’s when choosing a wedding dress. “Well, if you insist.”

Aziraphale walked about the space once more this time with a bit more spring in his step. His eyes glanced from here to there, seeing things that weren’t in existence just yet. He clasped his hands together and hurried back to Crowley’s side. He took one more look to the demon before snapping his fingers.

In a quick succession, a fury of overstuffed cushions poofed into existence on top a set of fluffy seating. A curved L-shaped couch found itself in the corner. An antique accent chair and ottoman appeared across from it. And a round, glass coffee table between the two. Flashes of cream, tan, and the occasional soft blue whipped about as the furniture came into existence. And though the upholstery matched those colors, all the wooden bits were a much deeper one, the stain almost taking the appearance of black paint. The whole arrangement clashed with itself quite horribly, but at the same time, it worked. It was a mix of grandma’s house and that nice bank all the rich people go to.

“There,” Aziraphale said as the room settled. “Now, I think that’s jolly good.”

“I like it.” Crowley nonchalantly threw himself onto the couch.

“Really? I tried to throw some of your elements into it all so it would go with the rest of the place. I just couldn’t go all the way with it. So dark and dreary.”

“Am a demon. Have to live the part, y’know? Or had to I guess.”

Aziraphale lifted an eyebrow at that. He moved to the chair he had summoned for himself. “Yes, indeed. We’re a bit more free to do as we wish, aren’t we? No longer have to hide our meetings or fit within the cookie cutter guideline our opposing sides set for us.”

“A plus to the End Times.”

“It’s definitely a positive result, but the infinite choices now available are a bit overwhelming. I find myself doing the same things as before all this.”

“And what would you like to be doing?”

“Oh, I’m not quite sure.” The angel looked to Crowley. He actually was quite sure, but they still weren’t talking about it. “Perhaps, this is nice enough on its own. If a change is to happen, let it happen naturally.”

“Naturally for you means at least a couple of centuries.”

“It’s not like we’re short on time, dear.”

“Suppose you’re right there.”

Crowley snapped his own fingers, and a fireplace appeared on the wall behind them, warmly lit. It wasn’t yet the season for evenings by the fire, but demons loved their heat. Especially snakey ones. The crackle of the crispy logs took up the silent, empty air.

“But,” Aziraphale continued, picking the conversation back up. “Given our new predicament, natural progression might be a bit too slow.”

“Sorry, what—what are you talking about? Lost me somewhere in there.”

“Oh, just filling the air. Nothing in particular.” The angel grabbed a book from the ether. “I’ve been meaning to read Poe’s work for some time, but it’s always seemed too grim to get started on. I suppose the atmosphere radiating from your flat makes this an appropriate time to finally pick his work up.”

Crowley tilted his head. That was a rather quick change of the subject. “Go for it. I’ll just be resting my eyes then.”

Aziraphale tucked his nose into his book, and Crowley rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. The room felt deep. As if everything about it was wearing a mask caused by their conversation. The occasional evening with Aziraphale would end up that way. As if they were both playing the parts with something rather different on both of their minds. It often left Crowley feeling as though he had wasted an opportunity. What that opportunity was in itself was a completely different issue.

There were going to be a lot more of these evenings in increasing numbers with them being practically handcuffed to each other now. Why the angel was so fine with bearing it for him, Crowley didn’t know. It had to be such a leech on his quality of life. Stuck in every moment without a shred of privacy. Aziraphale, despite being an all-loving being, did like his own space. Crowley knew that bookshop of his wasn’t that big when he had first got it. But Aziraphale was sacrificing all of that for him to not be bent over in constant pain.

Sure, the angel just couldn’t leave him, and Crowley never thought he would. They had literally gone to the End of the World together. Both exiled from their place of employment. They only had each other. Still, Aziraphale was just fine being stuck this way forever. Together. And Crowley really couldn’t wrap his brain around that. Or maybe he _wouldn’t_ wrap his brain around it.

Course he had no problem spending all his time with Aziraphale. If he was being honest, which he hardly did, there was no better way to spend his time. But surely Aziraphale had better ways to spend his time than hang about him.

Why was Aziraphale always the answers to his problems? An eternity of Sin evil enough to knock him out of Heaven and Aziraphale somehow cancels all that out. Why?

The angel cares about him. He said it earlier and actually meant it. Not in the way that he cares about every person, plant, or animal he comes across. An angel wouldn’t tie themselves to a petunia for the rest of existence to keep it from feeling pain. Especially pain derived from a punishment bestowed by the Almighty.

Crowley draped his arm over the arm of the couch, feeling the cool, wooden trim along it. They didn’t have to be friends. From day one, they could’ve made that clear. Started up the rivalry of the ages, but he hadn’t instigated that and then Aziraphale didn’t either. They had always minded each other respectfully. And then it took a turn for something more friendly. And then… well, who knows.

Six thousand years and here they were. Where did that put them? Crowley looked to Aziraphale who looked so immersed in his book that the demon suspected that he wasn’t actually paying any attention to it at all. A suspicion arose in Crowley’s mind that the two of them were having a very similar but completely separate stream of consciousness. And if that was the case, then maybe it was time to stop playing around the subject.

The room still wore a mask, but Crowley was starting to see through it. Whether what he was seeing was accurate, he didn’t know. All he knew was that whatever the opportunity lurking in the air tonight was, he wasn’t going to miss it.

“Aziraphale,” he began, causing the angel to look up from his book. “What are we?”

“Well, I am an angel and you are—”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m, uh, not sure I do.” Aziraphale clumsily shut his book and dropped it onto his lap. He did know, but saying that seemed much too scary.

Crowley sat up and took his sunglasses off. “I’m not saying we need to label anything. Horribly human thing to do. Some things are beyond words, y’know. But we’ve thrown each other plenty of bones throughout the centuries when we were supposed to do anything but. And well, you mentioned earlier that our relationship may have something to do with this giant mess we’re in.”

“Where are you going with this, Crowley?”

“You don’t see a lot of demons caring about anyone down in Hell, and despite anything you might say, I don’t feel like a lot of angels Upstairs do either. But I care an awful lot about you. And I know we’re more for silent communication regarding whatever we are, but I just want to put it out there directly for once. I goddamn love you. I really do.”

Aziraphale stood and joined Crowley on the couch. He took the demon’s hands in his own. “I suppose we are rather indirect with these things. A harsh consequence of six thousand years of secrecy if I had to guess. I very much love you too.” The angel smiled. “It does feel quite good to say out loud although not as good as hearing you say it.”

“Even the _goddamn_ part?”

“I’ve chosen not to hear that twice now.”

“I was really hoping I was reading all the signs right. Kept telling myself there was no way. Just an angel good at being an angel. Friendly disposition and a knack for understanding the world as it is. Good to learn it was more than that.”

“I wish we could’ve had this conversation sooner. Of course, that wasn’t really all that possible until recently. Just our meetings were risky enough.”

“What you said back at Loch Ness. I think you were right.”

“I said a number of things at Loch Ness.”

“About our relationship being the reason for me being fine in your company.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened, and he let out an audible gasp. “Oh, love, of course! _Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins_.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bible quotes. Lovely. Point is, we figured it out.”

“Absolutely fantastic. A real hurrah moment if I do say.” Aziraphale released Crowley’s hands to clap his own. “Does this lead us anywhere? In terms of resolving your Sins for good?”

Crowley stood up. “Well, if it does have to do with the idea of personal forgiveness like you said, I, uh, might be making good progress on that.”

“Oh, Crowley.”

“Because specifically—given the context of everything relevant now—maybe all that Falling stuff doesn’t really matter. What was right and wrong and whether I’ve been screwed over from it and that the Almighty should just go shove it. All of it kind of pales, right?” The demon took a few tentative steps back. “None of any of that matters a damn as long as you give one about me. Course I’m still not too fond of the whole memory, but maybe I’m a bit less concerned on what I could’ve done differently.”

By the time he finished talking, the demon was halfway across the room, much further from Aziraphale than he had peacefully been from him in a couple of days. He held his breath. The moment passed. And another after that. And still, he felt fine. A grin found its way to his face. One that didn’t have a hint of mischief or smugness to it, but one that embodied a weight-lifting happiness.

“Well, there you go, huh. Would you look at that?” Crowley said, throwing his arms out. “Simple as that.”

Aziraphale rushed over to Crowley, and, taking the demon’s open arms as an invitation, proceeded to hug him. Crowley, although surprised at first, quickly melted into the embrace.

“Why that’s absolutely fantastic!” Aziraphale began. “One piece of the puzzle was key to solving the rest of it.” He pulled away slightly to look at Crowley. “Imagine you’re the first demon to be in this position, dear. You’re quite literally overcome your Sins. Does that even make you a demon anymore?”

“Who cares? We’re whatever we want to be. Demon, angel, or even a bloody human. Doesn’t matter as long as it’s me and you.”

Aziraphale’s smile gained a renewed warmth and he fell back onto Crowley’s shoulder. He let the moment settle into his mind before voicing the idea he had been playing with since their run in with the Lord of Flies a few hours ago.

“I think we should cause Downstairs just the pinch of trouble for what they put you through,” he whispered into Crowley’s ear.

“And what exactly do you suggest?” The demon’s chest vibrated as he talked.

Aziraphale took a deep breath and pulled away once again. Something with the possible ramifications of this required an eye to eye conversation. Still, their arms remained brushed up against each other.

“I might have formulated some thoughts for a letter to Heaven informing them of, ah, Hell’s vulnerability. I doubt they’ll take it completely seriously given my association to you and our work to avert the End Times, but perhaps they’ll get involved just enough to be a nuisance to your former employers.”

Crowley nodded his head. “Now, you see, it’s things like that which makes me love you. I think that’s just the added stress Downstairs needs.”

The rest of the night was spent with an inkwell, quill, and a square of old parchment along with a variety of century-old wine. Aziraphale and Crowley could’ve had their distance now. Stretch their legs. Feel their personal bubble return to them. But neither of them thought much of it. After six thousand years of being too afraid to get too close to one another, breaking physical contact was the last thing either of them desired.


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hell faces repercussions.

In Hell, amongst the screams and cries of millions of anguished demons and the clinking and clanking of industrial work, was the ring of an old rotary telephone. A certain Lord Beezlebub who was more sloped out of their throne that in it, shakely clutched the receiver and yanked it to their ear.

“What?!?” they demanded into it.

Their flies were rather numerous today, and in their own uncomfortableness couldn’t sit still. The smoke was also overly thick today. The fires had gotten out of hand since the Sins got loose. A demon would boil over and set fire to everything within twenty feet of them. Six millennia of architecture was crumbling alarmingly quickly.

“Uh, hey you don’t sound that good. Seems like our intel was right,” the voice of Archangel Gabriel spoke from the other side of the line.

“What intel?!? I’m perfectly fine. Speaking to you would put any being in a sour mood.”

The Lord of Flies felt their eyes roll into the back of their head. Their face scrunched up, shoving all the pain out of their voice. The other demons could be weak enough to fall apart, but not them. If they fell apart, Hell would never get fixed, and they’d all be stuck like this forever. There was a bigger curse than Falling to having stood so close to Lucifer that day in Heaven.

“Yeah, I don’t have to tell you anything.” Gabriel replied with a voice that made it clear he was shrugging as he spoke. “The world might not have ended as planned, but that doesn’t mean we’re all even. Oh, no, this little predicament all of you are in down there is just what we needed to pull ahead in this celestial race.”

A large crash clattered in the distance. The sound of metal on metal rang harshly into Beezlebub’s ears. Just another grievance to tack on. Accurate miracles were an impossibility when under the pain of Falling Sins. Another load of supplies for the hallway must’ve surely found themselves hurled over a cliff. Or perhaps another worker had finally lost it and was going on a rampage. That happened enough without the increased incentive. Currently, everything was three steps forward followed by two back.

“All this _predicament_ has done for uz iz reawaken our despisement for all of you up there. Apocalypse or not. Heaven will burn. I’ll start the firezzz myself.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be threatening us, Beez. We don’t need a war on to fight anymore. And it seems like you’re at quite the disadvantage right now.”

“Try and come here to fight uz. Hell iz looking more like itz beginning days. Hellfire every three steps. It’z what happenzzzz when demonzzz can’t control their powerz. It getzzz explosive.”

As they said this, a boom went off somewhere else entirely. Probably was the supplies that got chucked over the cliff. Progress needed to be viewed under a microscope to be seen. Even an elevator ride with a crate of building supplies wasn’t a guaranteed success.

“Nice to know,” Gabriel replied after the ringing from the explosion wore off. “We’ll take that into consideration as we tear down your past three centuries’ worth of work. Oh, and I’ll send over some flowers and a get well card. Can’t call us heartless. We are the good guys.”

With that, Beezlebub was met with a dial tone. They crushed the phone in their hand. The circuitry and wiring popping out and sparking as the receiver cracked. As it crumbled, they threw the remainder of the device across the room where it hit a particular pathetic demon curled up into the fetal position on the ground.

“Crowley!” the Lord of Flies screamed. Their voice deafened the pained cries in every layer of Hell. “The Earth will burn. Sizzle and crackle until it’zzzzz no more. A pile of ash. Every demon, devil, imp, and gargoyle will tear that planet apart until it iz no more, and you are dragged back down here to suffer like the rest of uz!”

Flames burned behind their eyes. That was a promise they were set on keeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for joining me on this wonderful adventure! Writing this had its ups and downs, but I'm happy with how it turned out! 
> 
> If you liked this story, please check out some of my other Gomens fanfics such as Here Today Gone Tomorrow!


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